


The Funny Thing (That's Not So Actually Funny Really) About Boggarts

by moonydays



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggart, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, and Harry is so chill, i really like how this turned out, lowkey angst, ron is a very cute and nice boyfriend, tbh it is quite angsty but not that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9441383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonydays/pseuds/moonydays
Summary: The chest rattled once again in a corridor on the fifth floor. Nobody knew why it was there. How it got there. Or what was in it. Who could've possibly put it there and when they could've put it there. It was just, you know... there./////In other words, a chest appears at Hogwarts and nobody knows why, or what is in it. Turns out Draco is rather curious, and will do anything to show up Potter, who is rather scared to open it himself. He's the one who ends up alohamora-ing that shit and what takes form once it comes out shocks the crowd, but in turn breaks Draco and makes Ron's heart ache.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really like how this ended and I hope you do too. Sorry if I've spelt anything wrong or gotten any grammar wrong. Enjoy !!!

The chest rattled once again in a corridor on the fifth floor. Nobody knew why it was there. How it got there. Or what was in it. Who could've possibly put it there and when they could've put it there. It was just, you know... there.

Odd things seemed to appear out of nowhere at Hogwarts rather often. Like a new statue that no one knew about until someone walked past it and noticed that the house elf with wearing what seemed to be a pair of socks was never there before and that must have meant it was new to the castle, or even the odd pair of shoes hanging from the ceiling which soon disappeared as Peeves took them down and hid them somewhere else so the student whose shoes they were would never find them or even come across them unintentionally. Yet, this time drew attention to a lot of people because usually the unusual thing that appeared would be someone's because the shoes were more than likely Luna's and by now everyone realised the castle had made statues to commemorate war heroes and victims.

The thing rattled again (you couldn't call it a chest because clearly there was something inside of it causing it to shake, not the actual chest, so whatever it was really wanted to get out) making the crowd surrounding it jump and exchange curious whispers once again. It was probably just Peeves joking around again or maybe it wasn't. Whatever it was, nobody was rushing to find out, well, maybe a certain four people were intrigued and were going to find out.

Draco first pushed through the crowd and came out at the edge. He got a first glimpse at the chest and understood why people were whispering about it. It was far too large for anyone to lift, really, unless they were Hagrid or an incredibly strong person. But no one was particularly a body builder at Hogwarts and Hagrid, despite what people think, always tells when he brings something into the castle (only the castle, not his house). Maybe the castle had put it there as it did the statues. He was left to wonder only for a second when three more figures had come out of the crowd across from him.

The golden trio, in all their glistening glory and name which people had christened them with (which they begrudgingly accepted) came forward and pushed through the crowd that had formed. Potter leading the way, Granger and Weasley, or he should really say Ron, trailing behind him. 

The name change had taken a while for Draco to grow used to. It'd been hard for him to ever stop calling his boyfriend by his surname or a modified version of that (see Source A: Bit grand for you, isn't it, Weaselbee?). Or then again hard to stop referring to him as Potter's sidekick or lapdog. But Ron wasn't absolute perfection with the names either, now and then he still called Draco by the fourth year nickname ferret. He insisted it was an accident, but after the fiftieth time after they had gotten used to calling each other by their first names, Draco had grown a suspicion.

They still called each other Weasley and Malfoy in public, wouldn't want anyone to suspect anything now then would they. There wouldn't be the best response out there in the world and from their parents if they ever found out the two were dating. A Gryffindor and Slytherin was already scandalous enough, never mind those two. And they were doing a pretty good job at it, if they did say so themselves. Been going on since fifth year, they started being friends in fourth really.

It was around the time that Potter had become the triwizard champion and Ron was having difficulties coming to terms with it that Draco felt an odd pang of guilt one time he taunted Ron about it. This kept on happening until he ran into Ron and had to tell him. They talked and both found themselves rather enjoying one another's company.

Their friendship grew and grew until one time when they had gotten into a fight fifth year, over a pretend insult to keep up appearances went too far, that they both landed themselves in detention. Mcgonagall had briefly left the room and the two of them immediately started apologising for their mistakes. Draco wouldn't stop saying sorry over and over again and Ron tried to stop him by interrupting him, but the Slytherin wasn't having any of it. Then Ron saw the only reasonable thing to shut him up would be to kiss him. The result of this thought ended up as Ron taking that opportunity and grabbing the collar of Draco's shirt to pull their lips together.

A muffled gasp and a quick moan before Mcgonagall came back in and unknowingly separated their lips was all they needed to know and feel. They met up later on in the same day, Ron having to steal Potter's invisibility cloak - of fucking course Draco knew about it, there wasn't much he didn't know - and going down to the Slytherin common room to drag Draco away to the astronomy tower. 

Talking about it wasn't on their top list of priorities but making out sure was. After that, they were boyfriends and now in their eighth year, had to come back to finish their NEWTs, they were still going strong. Having cover ups if any of their friends grew suspicious that neither of them enjoyed (did you really think Ron liked Lavender Brown when he could have Draco fucking Malfoy?) and staged fights was all they could do to keep their relationship a secret for that long. Despite all their arguments and being on two different sides of the war, they really were truly happy with each other, if only other people would see it that way.

So now it came to this moment where they were stood opposite each other, across a circle of people, all facing a chest. They briefly exchanged worried glances with one another, hoping no one noticed and turns out they didn't, and maybe that look in Granger's eye was completely to do with something else. 

Draco saw Ron lean and whisper something into Potter's ear, probably to do with the chest. Potter exchanged a couple sentences and quick murmurs with his friends and turned around to face the chest. 

"What do you think it is, Harry?" Granger asked. Draco couldn't help but think why on earth was she asking him when she was obviously a lot smarter than him. And he also couldn't believe he complimented Granger.

"No clue. But there's no harm in trying to find out. Well, maybe there is." Potter mumbled the last sentence to himself, yet most people heard.

He took out his wand and moved closer to the chest. Holding it out, his arm and hand and fingers, all of them, were visibly shaking. 

"Mate, if you can't do it it's alright. No one will blame you." Ron offered comforting words. Draco did respect Ron but he still didn't really enjoy Potter and Granger and Potter seemed to be taking his sweet time with that chest and he simply had had enough.

"Scared, Potter?" He called out in that smug voice of his (the one that Ron really loves). Heads turned in that direction to see Draco Malfoy stood there, a smirk plastered on his face, an eyebrow raised, arms folded across his chest. People had actually begun to notice him stood there now that their attention hadn't been focused on Potter, Ron, and Granger.

"The saviour of the wizarding world, defeater of You Know Who, doesn't even have the Gryffindor courage to open the chest." He drawled, scoffing in amusement. Nobody but Ron noticed how Draco, even after all his time, feared the Dark Lord's name and never spoke it, unlike more and more people who were growing comfortable with saying Voldemort. He had too many bad memories associated that name, more than most people. "Looks like I'll have to open it."

Draco took out his wand from his pocket, thankful that it was his now that Potter had returned it when the war ended. Even if it did get taken away by the Ministry at first, he still had it back in his grasp and nothing felt more comfortable there, well maybe one other thing... But that was for another day.

"Alohamora." He said, confidently, pointing his wand at the chest and doing the motion allocated with the simple spell. Whatever was in that chest surely couldn't do any harm. He was Draco Malfoy and nothing could bring harm to a Malfoy, besides the Dark Lord, or the pressure of the family name, or a fist fight, or a wand fight really (not that kind of wand fight you dirty bastards). So, a lot of things could bring harm to him really - especially moths.

Through wisps of smoke and wind blowing Draco's hair, what was in the chest finally took form. The first thing you could notice was the fiery red hair that could only really belong to one family. The Weasley's. And this particular one happened to be Ron.

But that, it couldn't be. He was stood over by Potter and Granger. You can't be in two places at once, well you could but if you didn't have a time turner then you were hopeless. 

A crowd forced their way forwards to get a better view to look at what the actual fuck was going on, causing many people to stumble back, including the trio themselves.

"Why're there two Ron's?" A very Irish voice spoke up. That must be Seamus something or other. Draco never really bothered to learn the full names of the students in his year and right now they weren't really his priority.

"Is that a boggart?" Someone called from the crowd but for Draco it was a distant sound, blurred around the edges with the words slurring together in a haze of dizziness. 

"If it is then why is it Ron?" Another voice spoke out, Draco likened it to Granger's - it probably was hers to be honest. She was always the logical one in these situations. 

"Hello, Draco." The Ron in front of him smirked, his voice booming out and stopping anymore questions from being asked. 

Draco's body went rigid, his entire figure frozen. It sounded just like him. And it couldn't be him. It was a boggart as somebody had shouted. It wasn't Ron at all, it was a boggar-

"Oh." He laughed, the sound filled with malice, cutting of Draco's train of thought and shattering the ice filling up his bones. "Shocked to see me? I would be too. Well, maybe not. You see, I'm not like you. You're pathetic, look at you. Just like your family, with no purpose in the world." 

The way he emphasised certain words stuck to Draco and held gaps of bitterness and hatred. Each and every word laced with venom. Never had he imagined Ron would be acting like this. But it wasn't Ron. It was a boggart, right?

"Ri-Riddikulus." Draco murmured weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. His wand barely pointed towards Ron. The usual tight grip he held on it gave away and it went clattering to ground.

"That's never going to work on me. You know why? Because I am the real thing, I'm the truth." Ron spat, the glare fierce and firing up in his eyes. "And we do know that you know what the truth is. You're a killer. Remember sixth year? Poor Katie Bell, oh yes, and poor me. Nearly killed your own boyfriend." 

The crowd of people filled with murmurs and whispers. Did Ron just say that? It must've been a mistake surely. Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy weren't dating, people would've known if they were.

"But they were never for us, were they?" He carried on, the voices fading as everyone focused their attention back on Ron. "All for Dumbledore, they were. You were the cause of his death. You disarmed him, left the poor, innocent man defenceless. You let the Death Eaters into the castle that night."

"R-Ron, no - you know I had no choi-"

"I really, really regret you, you know." He said again, his voice getting lower as he spoke. "You've wasted so much of my time."

Ron's voice was menacing and the words he spoke were designed as if they were meant to hurt Draco. As if they were meant to pick out every detail wrong with him and the actions he's done. All the wrongdoings. Each like a stab right through his chest where his heart was, everyone one of them leaving a catastrophic wound.

"Draco, it's not me. It's a boggart, it's not me!" The real Ron shouted. He felt stuck to the spot, unable to move.

"Please don't do this to me. Ron, don't. Please listen to me." Draco begged, his eyes tearing up the slightest bit. Not enough for people to noticed, but the real Ron noticed and it broke his heart.

"You think I'm going to listen to you? Why on earth would I do that for someone that worthless. Look how despicable you are, begging me to stop, full of cowardice and self loathing. You're a Death Eater! A murderer who is roaming free. And I'm the golden boy, the King. No longer Harry's faithful sidekick or dirt for you to wipe off your shoe. How our roles have switched. You see, I'm no longer my family failure, I helped saved the wizarding world! But you, you now occupy the role of the family disappointment. Always letting down your father, causing him to break under Voldemort's pressure. Your Aunt Bellatrix, no matter how insane, you let her down too. And your poor, unfortunate mother, she had such great expectations of you, and yet you did nothing to try and achieve them. Instead, you bullied around as 'daddy's little boy' and if anything went wrong for you, it was sure your father would hear about it. Now, you're despicable, nothing but an irritant and pointless. Any purpose you had to serve is now over, and your daddy is no longer here for you to call on. All because of you. Fucking death eater."

"Ron." He whispered, his voice wavering and feathering. His right hand immediately grabbed at his left forearm and tightened. Crescent shaped marks dug into his skin from where his nails had been just that bit too long enough to draw blood.

"This pointless, meaningless, so-called relationship that we've had? All those late nights at the library when nobody else was around, all those quick pulls into hidden alcoves so no one could see us, all those excuses like practicing for quidditch or leaving your book in the classroom or wanting to talk to the teacher just so we could spend those extra, few, crucial minutes together. But of course, they were only important to you. For me? Well, they were laughable. I loved watching you think that we were genuinely together, actually in love, that someone literally forgave you for the acts you committed in the war. Our relationship, well, it's all been a game and I have found extreme delight in playing it."

"No, don't say that-" Draco pleased, the odd tear falling down his cheek. He didn't know when he'd begun to cry, he just knew that he was. 

"All the times I've called you baby and sweetheart, when in reality I wanted to call you a coward and a git and a selfish bastard because that's what you are. Only ever thinking of yourself. Never of anyone else. You never thought of the consequences your actions would lead to. Letting the death eaters into the castle meant that my own brother got scarred by Fenir Greyback. It meant that many of us got injured and harmed. And when your friend was dying? You only ran away because you were to busy focused on saving your life rather than his when you know who deserves to be the one dead."

"Ron please stop! Please! I never meant for that to happen please just-" Draco sunk to his knees, his voice breaking. He couldn't finish his sentence as another voice called out. He knew it was Ron's voice but it was coming from another direction and not the one in front of him. 

"It's not true! It's not me. Don't believe him. It's not-" Ron shouted and once again got cut off by the boggart. He tried to make his way through the crowd to get to his boyfriend but so many people had pushed forwards to see what was happening that he got shoved near the back. 

"We should've left you to die in that fire! Just like Crabbe!" The boggart Ron shouted, silencing any lingering whispers that remained whilst the scene before them was taking place. The only sound was of Draco's whimpers and the boggart that took Ron's form's heavy breathing. "Or better," he spoke slower this time, more controlled, "rot in a cell in Azkaban. Everyone knows it's where you belong and not here at Hogwarts. Letting the dementors see to you every night sucking every bit of sanity away from you until you're just a shell. A lifeless body. Let them give you their kiss and suck every ounce of your soul and let them feed on it until you no longer have one. You know, someone once told me that it would be unbearable to watch but they'd try to live through it, at first I thought an act like that was inhumane, but now, I know exactly what he meant."

It's not real, it's not him. It's not real, it's not him. It's not real, it's not him. That one sentence was on repeat in Draco's head. Maybe if he said it enough times he'd believe it himself. 

Ron menacingly slowly walked directly in front of him, crouched down, leant forwards and whispered in his ear for everyone to hear. He laughed, a poisonous tone filled with harshness and venom. "Did you ever believe I'd actually love a Slytherin?"

And that's when Draco broke. 

Sobs began to wrack his body and he curled up on himself. In that moment, Draco Malfoy was purely his broken self; none of the facade he put on to maintain his Malfoy name and the arrogance that came with it, none of the 'shouting insults at Potter' persona, none of the 'directly humiliating Granger' character he played, none of the 'fist fights he once had with Ron' personality and none of the 'pureblood mania his parents had drilled into him' role because he wasn't them anymore.

Yes, he was Draco Malfoy, but that name meant different things for different people and now all those faces people saw were smashed and they saw who he truly was: a boy, born into a family with horrid values of blood lineage and a hatred for muggles (when Draco himself found them rather fascinating), the wrong idea built into him from birth and the prejudices installed in him as if he was a programme, manufactured by the Malfoy and Black families because he was the only remaining respectable heir and he had to be the perfect little boy sent off to marry the purest witch. He was a boy who got sucked into this world of torture and havoc and maniacs obsessed with blood impurities being the be all and end all of the world where the ideals of perfection dominated over their bodies until it was the only remaining thought left and let the disgust of ever mating with a wizard or witch who wasn't a pureblood consume them and posses their body until they murdered every last muggle and muggleborn and halfblood even. A boy who's taunted by the figures that haunt his dreams. A boy who was forced to obey a ruler he knew was wrong, a boy who never intended for things to go that far, a boy who was also a victim of the war even if he was on the wrong side.

He was just a boy, a human, like any of them, stripped down to his core where his name meant nothing and who he was meant nothing anymore, in a state where, despite anything he'd ever done, people felt sympathy surge through their bodies.

And at that point, people realised that Draco Malfoy wasn't bad; he was just broken.

A state of quietude took over every single person. They couldn't talk and gossip about what had happened because they were all too much in shock. The silence screamed out, the only thing breaking it being Draco. He couldn't breath and any air he took in made him feel choked.  His sharp breaths fell heavy and short, coming to a point where they had no system and had begun to fall into an erratic pattern. Another noise sounded and the shuffle of Ron trying to make his way through the rest of the crowd to his boyfriend got louder. They stood still not letting him get past because they remained frozen, no one believing what happened. But soon, they parted when Potter (and partially Granger - he couldn't really make out the voice, the ringing in his ears was too loud) shouted, "Get the fuck out of the way, Ron is trying to get through."

All of a sudden, like a madman, the most mocking laugh ridiculed Draco, invading his ears and making him shake. He heard the sharpness to it, the edge of spite cutting through him like a blade. Not looking up. Never looking up. He didn't have to look up. Everyone knew who was laughing. Draco's sobs couldn't help but be let out, despite the people around him. 

Draco felt himself being lifted up, he guessed Ron. Yes. It smelt like him and the feel of the clothes was definitely one belonging to Ron. No. No. How could Ron be holding him. He was just insulting him, mocking him, he's still laughing at Draco, how could he be there.  Draco's face had turned an awful shade of blotchy red and a mess of tears fell down his cheeks. He threw his hands up trying to claw at his throat in an attempt to stop. To stop crying, to stop shaking, to stop anything really.

Then the amused shrieks stopped. Draco snapped his head up to see a look of confusion plastered on Ron's face. With a whirl of wind and the twist of the figure, his hands grew long and bony like skeleton claws and the clothes Ron had been wearing soon faded into a black and grew into a sheer cloak. Ron was no longer but a dementor.

A riddikulus chimed in the tone of Potter's voice and the dementor turned into a pile of black cloth and crawled back into the chest. Potter rushed forward and slammed the lid shut, locking it just to make sure the boggart couldn't get out.

Draco felt Ron's strong arm wrap around him and guide him away from everyone. They easily got through the dispersing crowd as the scene had finished. What used to look like Ron was now merely a boggart, back to its usual shape rather than the worst fear of Potter or himself.

They pushed through the crowd again, this time it now separated and created a clear path for them. The four wandered down the corridor, not really knowing where they were going. Potter checked random doors to see if the classroom was empty (the ones he had checked were sadly occupied by others in some fairly compromising, but rather bizarre and quite impressive positions). Granger's footsteps quickened ahead, checking more classrooms or around any corners to get away from all, and any, students. She even looked behind the odd statue in case it looked like there was a hidden room - you never know what you could find at Hogwarts. Draco was shaking profoundly, with Ron's arms wrapped tight around his frame.

"It's alright. It's okay, baby." Ron murmured in Draco's ear, offering a tone of comfort and letting the soothingness of his voice run through Draco's bloodstream, calming him down ever so slightly. He gripped his hand around his boyfriend's, holding it so tight that it did hurt Ron more than he would like to admit, get Draco was in far worse pain.  

Draco's grip made Ron lose all the feeling he ever had in his right hand, but it was worth it to comfort and ease his boyfriend. Draco needed Ron, and who was Ron to not be there for that help. Whether it be a death grip on his hand, or crying into his shoulder, Ron wouldn't back away, not after all these years, not a chance.

"Finally." Potter breathed out in relief, eventually finding a room far enough away from everyone for them to go into. He slammed the door fully open, and held it that way, while Ron guided Draco through. Granger slammed the door behind once she got through, performing a locking charm so no one would interrupt them.

Potter hastily pulled out a chair for Draco to sit down on while Ron still held him. He settled down into it as Ron knelt down in front of him, arms wrapped around his waist while Draco clung on around his boyfriend's neck. Draco felt Ron's breath against his ear and cheek, hot against his own cold skin. 

"Baby, it's fine. It's not real. I'm here, I'm not him. None of those things he said are true. I love you so much." Ron whispered, as Draco hugged him hard, Ron hugging him back just as tightly, neither wanting to let go of each other. 

Draco felt Ron kiss his forehead, then his cheeks (both of them twice), and then his nose. Then anywhere else he could practically find like his temple or chin, repeatedly. He opened his eyes wide, Draco's own piercing, grey, bloodshot eyes stared into Ron's deep, concerned, blue ones. 

"I'm here. I'm real."

And those word were all Draco needed at that moment and somehow Ron knew. They worked like that, the two of them, understanding how to do and say at the right moments, going against all stereotypes held of Slytherins or Gryffindors not getting along and hating each other. They knew that if really meant nothing, the houses they belonged to. As long as they had each other, all was well. 

Moving from their place around Ron's neck, Draco's hands gripped either side of Ron's face. Ron opened his mouth, ready to speak again, but Draco pulled him forwards for a real kiss, not the little pecks Ron had been leaving all over his face. Despite their cuteness, Draco needed to feel Ron's lips on his own.

Ron's lips moved against his, slow and passionate. Love poured out between them, as they shared the melancholy moment, pressed against one another, arms wound so tight they could break Draco, and hands presses so hard that Draco was surprised that he didn't crush Ron's skull.

Draco's tongue traced Ron's lips in order for him to open them, and Ron got the silent message. Their tongues brushed against one another, and they both held on more fiercely to each other, as if some unknown force could rip them apart at any time, the boggart being a rather largely clear example. Ron slightly shifted as the cold stone floor on he knees wasn't the best. Draco stood up off the chair, acknowledging Ron's discomfort, and dragged Ron up with him until they were both stood up. The height difference didn't take effect when Draco was sat down and Ron knelt on the floor, but now those couple inches made the difference because Draco had significantly gotten smaller. He pushed himself up onto his tiptoes, creating creases in his shoes which he couldn't care less about really, not as he was kissing Ron. Draco moved his arms back around Ron's neck to drag his down to make his lips push against the other pair harder.

They eventually pulled away from each other because, you know, Potter and Granger were still in the room. Their lips still brushed against one another in the intimate minute. "I love you, Draco."

"I love you too, Ron."

Draco had stopped crying at some point, though his eye remained swollen and bloodshot and cheeks still tear stained. Ron rushed to wipe them away. After recollecting himself, Draco turned towards Granger and Potter.

"I apologise that you had to see that." He laughed nervously, voice hoarse from the sobbing. "Nevertheless, thank you for helping me get out of there. You really didn't have to do it and yet you did, so I am forever grateful."

"Don't worry about it." Potter replied nonchalantly, as if he frequently helped out sobbing Malfoys from their boyfriend boggarts. He and Granger quickly exchanged a glance like they we're reading each other's minds. Granger nodded and Potter began to speak again. "Although, we both would like to know how your relationship with Ron came about, because, mate, I was not expecting that. Ron you've got some explaining to do."

Despite the situation and the person, Draco found himself laughing. The humour didn't die down but spread to Ron, seeming to be almost infectious as it travelled to the other two people in the room.

"Long story or short?" Ron asked his two best friends, never picturing this moment to happen as he slung his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"Long, we have enough time." Granger replied before Potter could put a word in. Draco supposed he really ought to call them Harry and Hermione now. It would take a while, but he could grow used to it.

"Well," Ron began, his whole face smiling, not just his mouth, but his eyes as well. Draco had never seen anything more beautiful than him and was never expecting to. The couple never expected to be put in this situation but hey, that's just the funny thing (that's not so actually funny really) about boggarts.


End file.
